Philippe's Game

The Chateau Dubois, normally a bastion of hushed elegance, now felt like a viper’s nest, each corner whispering with unseen agendas. Isabelle felt the weight of every silk gown, every perfectly arranged flower, every scrutinizing glance. She was a foreign body in this gilded cage, an Avignon wildflower transplanted into a manicured, high-stakes game.

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